Hajin slid his right foot backward half a pace, digging his sturdy heel into a deep horizontal fissure in the rock shelf.
He tested the stone with his full body weight, finding a rigid anchor point that could absorb thousands of pounds of concussive recoil without crumbling.
The loose red sand swirled around his shins like water around a boulder, but his lower body remained completely motionless against the bedrock.
He did not reach into his dimensional inventory for a weapon, nor did he summon chains to bind the descending beast.
He simply lowered his center of gravity, keeping his left hand casually tucked into his coat pocket while his right arm hung loose at his side.
Beneath his hardened leather bracer, a single radiant halo materialized around his right wrist, spinning with tight, steady velocity.
A baseline one-point-five multiplier coursed through his reconstructed muscles, reinforced sinews, and ancient bloodline meridians.
